Hex Appeal: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 15)

by Sarina Dorie

  Thatch circled an arm around my waist, hugging me to his side with one hand, while caressing my fingers with the other. I braced myself for pain again. Any moment he would surely amuse the queen with a demonstration.

  Thatch enunciated each word with crisp clarity. “This woman belongs to me, not the Silver Court. I will do with her as I will. I will not permit any more attacks on her person.” Thatch looked to Queen Morgaine. “Nor do I expect my sovereign would permit this.”

  Now I suspected I understood the game he was playing.

  Quenylda snorted. “She may be your wife, but she is allied to my husband and the Silver Court. Clarissa Thatch belongs to us more than she does to you. If you wished to keep her as yours, you should have claimed her before Prince Elric did.”

  “Be that as it may,” Thatch said in his expressionless monotone. “You are no longer welcome in the Silver Court. You have been banished.”

  Banished? Was that why she was here in the court of her frenemy?

  Thatch went on. “For that reason, any claims Prince Elric and the Silver Court have on Clarissa do not extend to you. I will not bow to one who has fallen so far from grace, nor will I permit you to touch my sovereign’s property. Furthermore—”

  Quenylda rose. “You will not speak to me that way. I am royalty. I am Fae. You are merely a half-breed halfwit.” Magic sparkled around her.

  Thatch continued, “Furthermore, Prince Elric granted me permission to marry Clarissa, therefore, she is now in my care.”

  Quenylda’s fingers curled into claws. She stepped forward. “You—”

  “Silence.” The Raven Queen lifted a hand. “I will not have my guests quarreling over this matter. Clarissa is fortunate to be honored as my guest. I have granted you the favor of being my guest. Tonight a tarnished princess is as esteemed as a Witchkin with uncertain pedigree.”

  Quenylda’s face flushed pink. Considering how important the Fae considered their peerage and good breeding, I suspected those were fighting words. She looked as though she were about to spit out a nasty comment.

  The queen smiled. “Guests would do well to not overstep their bounds.”

  Quenylda bowed her head. She folded up her rage inside her, hiding it from her hostess. I wondered if the Raven Queen could sense it smoldering in the way I could. Quenylda was a viper I had to watch. I didn’t know when she would strike or how her presence here might interfere with my plans to free my mom.

  “In any case, we have more pleasant matters to discuss tonight. Business.” The Raven Queen steepled her fingers before her, not so differently from the way I had observed Thatch do it so many times sitting at his desk. The black talons extending from her fingertips made each finger look longer than his.

  Thatch trailed a finger across my jaw and kissed my temple. His smile was smug as he lifted his chin at Quenylda. I kept on smiling, trying to look beatific and mysterious.

  The Raven Queen’s arched eyebrows lifted higher, though her forehead remained smooth and free of wrinkles. “Felix told me you came for your fairy godmother. Is that correct, ma chére?”

  I glanced at him. He squeezed my hand, as if to say it was all right.

  I nodded. “That’s correct. I would like to take her home.”

  “Felix reminded me that we made a bargain, you and I. If you were to prove to me that one of my allies was an enemy, I would leave one of your loved ones be for a period of six months. Is that correct?”

  One of my loved ones? Was the Raven Queen going to make me choose between my mom and Thatch? That was horrible. It was so storybook cliché. As Elric had often proclaimed, Fae didn’t have an imaginative bone in their bodies.

  I managed a curtsy despite the way my heart pounded against my rib cage. “I believe the wording was all of my loved ones: my family, friends, and students.”

  “Is that so?” The queen looked to my husband. “Did I truly agree to that?”

  He inclined his head. “Indeed.”

  She shrugged, unconcerned. “Felix brought me the letter you spoke of previously. The one written by my supposed ally, the Princess of Lies and Truth.”

  Quenylda stiffened.

  The Raven Queen snapped her fingers at the shadows. A butler stepped forward, carrying a silver tray with a note on it.

  Quenylda’s eyes went wide. “It’s a lie, I’m certain. A forgery.”

  “A lie from the Princess of Lies and Truth?” I asked with mock sweetness.

  Queen Morgaine clucked her tongue. She lifted the note and waved it before Quenylda. “Is this not your hand? Not traces of your magic?” She inhaled. “Remnants of your perfume?”

  Quenylda snatched it up, reading. The note spoke of her treachery to kill my mother and employ Jebediah Bumblebub as Quenylda’s spy. It would be her undoing if the Raven Queen believed me.

  The princess crumpled up the note. “Clarissa Thatch fabricated that note to deceive you.” The paper incinerated in her hand, the evidence going up in smoke.

  Queen Morgaine raised an imperious eyebrow. She pointed to the cinders falling from Quenylda’s fingers. They reformed back into pale parchment. The paper floated onto the tray.

  “It happens I do believe Clarissa Thatch. I’ve known about your orders to kill Alouette Loraline for quite some time,” the Raven Queen said.

  Quenylda shifted in her seat.

  “It also happens, I don’t care.” The Raven Queen cackled, her voice echoing around the room.

  Quenylda’s shoulders relaxed. Her eyes met mine, and she grinned.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It’s an Ill Bird That Fouls Its Own Nest

  I looked to Thatch. His irises remained black. Though his face continued to be impassive and expressionless, he squeezed my hand. Reassurance radiated from him into me. Even so, it didn’t make me feel better.

  I stretched out my awareness, under his skin, feeling his confidence. There was a hint of anxiety, but not the panic that lived under my skin. I didn’t feel a soulless man intent on evil. He didn’t feel out of control and ruled by his affinity. This was a façade. Sensing his calm made me feel better.

  I slipped out from his skin, tasting the air. The room was full of creatures, invisible to my eyes. I sensed them as shadows, dozens of goblins and imps. Among the crowd standing along the perimeter, I felt the magic of an Amni Plandai. She was green and lovely, familiar and full of goodness. Fear and pain churned inside her.

  Abigail Lawrence was here.

  The Raven Queen spoke, drawing my attention back into my body. “I believe that letter is proof enough, not that it matters to me one way or another what Quenylda did in the past. It’s the present that’s important. Our current arrangement.”

  She smiled at the other woman and patted her hand before turning back to me. “Felix has convinced me that it would be a gesture of goodwill to you, to give you a demonstration of my generosity. I am a woman of my word. I said if you had proof, I wouldn’t harm your loved ones for six months. As it happens, I no longer have any use for your fairy godmother. You can have her back . . . if you still want her.”

  I nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

  There had to be some catch.

  My belly churned. Why wasn’t the lozenge working? What was I missing? Had it been over six months? Did the queen intend to release Abigail Lawrence only to harm her in a couple of days?

  The mirage of shadows lifted from one corner of the room, and I spotted my fairy godmother sitting high above, inside an iron cage, not so different from a birdcage like what Vega kept her birds in. The cage lowered from the ceiling. Abigail Lawrence gripped the bars, her face peering down at us. I shifted from foot to foot, fearing the cage might come crashing down with her still inside. Once it was low enough, a guard opened the cage and held out a hand to aid her exit. I wanted to rush to her, but Thatch’s arms around me tightened.

  It wouldn’t do to show too much human emotion. I forced my face to become as neutral as I could
manage.

  Mom smiled at me, limping as she approached. Her feet left bloody smears on the floor. I stretched a hand out toward her, afraid she would fall. Her hand reached out for mine. My fingertips brushed hers.

  The queen stood. Her voice boomed like thunder. “Wait.”

  The guard took hold of Abigail Lawrence’s arm, yanking her back. It felt as though my heart and all the hope I held there had been yanked from my chest.

  They were teasing me.

  “How long was that bargain good for?” the Raven Queen asked.

  It had been winter when we’d made the bargain. After Christmas, I was almost certain. Now it was June. It hadn’t been six months yet. There was another week.

  “Six months,” Thatch said. “It is within the time frame.”

  “Six months that I could not hurt her? Hmm.” She held up a finger, as if thinking of it for the first time. “But that doesn’t mean someone else can’t.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Early Bird Catches the Corpse

  That had been her plan? She meant to taunt and torment me.

  I tried to yank myself from Thatch’s arms. “No! You and the Raven Court can’t hurt her. That was part of the bargain.”

  He held me tighter.

  The Raven Queen wagged a finger at me in chastisement. “No. That wasn’t our bargain. It was that I couldn’t harm her.” She beckoned to someone, at first I thought Felix Thatch, then I realized at her words whom she meant. “Odette. Come forward.”

  Odette sauntered out from behind us. I shook my head at her. We had made a bargain months ago. I’d even heard her reference it in my dream.

  She bowed to the queen.

  “Perhaps you may be of assistance?” the queen asked.

  “No,” I repeated. I struggled to find a solution to this problem, but I couldn’t see any answers. I didn’t feel competent and powerful like when I usually used Thatch’s lozenge.

  “Your Majesty, I cannot. In order to convince Clarissa Thatch to come here last time, I had to promise I would not harm her fairy godmother, and I would ensure Abigail Lawrence’s safety by the hands of anyone belonging to the Raven Court.” She inclined her head. “But then, you know that.”

  The queen affected an apologetic expression. They were playing games. Thatch dipped his head down to my ear. “Do not move. Do not speak.”

  Both women looked to Thatch. Odette’s brows rose in question. “Perhaps Felix may be of assistance.”

  He released me and stepped forward. My feet were stuck to the floor. It wasn’t the first time he’d used that spell on me. I hated it just as much as the first time, though I understood he used it to protect me. I wanted to believe he would find a solution. A solution that didn’t involve killing her. But I didn’t think there was one.

  He held a hand out to my fairy godmother. She took his hand and stared up at him with round eyes. She quivered like a rabbit. He was filled with such gentle calm, I feared it might shatter at any moment. I knew he would make it a painless death rather than the torment the queen intended for my fairy godmother, but I didn’t want her to die at all.

  I searched my brain for a solution. As usual, I was in over my head and there were elements at work I wasn’t privy to. I touched the place the competency bracelet had been, but it was gone.

  Touching where the bracelet had been must have triggered something in me like a placebo effect. In a flare of inspiration, the answer came to me. Thatch had told me not to speak, but I had to. I knew the solution.

  “Felix, you’re part of the Raven Court?” I asked. “You can’t hurt my fairy godmother either, right?” I didn’t know if I wished it to be true or not.

  He shot me a warning look.

  “Is it true?” the Raven Queen asked. “Have you returned to my flock permanently, or is this another one of your ruses to get what you want? You’ve always been so fickle.”

  He inclined his head. “You haven’t anyone to blame but yourself for that. You spoiled me as a child.”

  She chuckled. I doubted she’d spoiled him.

  “Are we going to see a public torture or not?” Quenylda shifted in her seat, impatience clear in her exasperated sigh. “All this grows dreary. Cousin, you promised entertainment tonight. You said you would kill someone.”

  Cousin? Were they related? They didn’t look related, but then that could have been a glamour. And royalty did tend to interbreed.

  “If you aren’t going to kill the daughter, find someone who can kill the mother,” Quenylda said.

  Abigail Lawrence sniffled. I wanted to hug her.

  Thatch stroked my mom’s hair. “Hush, Mrs. Lawrence. You’re safe . . . for the moment.”

  The Raven Queen drummed a talon against her chin. “If someone were to torture this pathetic excuse for a Witchkin, it would have to be someone . . . not of this court.”

  I hated not being able to do anything. I didn’t have the kind of magic I needed to defeat a Fae at will. The competency potion had never kicked in. Perhaps this last lozenge had been a ruse all along. Or perhaps it didn’t work here in a Fae castle.

  I ran through my list of abilities. Almost instinctively, my hand clasped the amulet. If I used it to save my fairy godmother, my soul would be lost. I would be a slave to the Silver Court. They already knew I possessed the secrets to the Fae Fertility Paradox. I wouldn’t be in control of whom I gave it to and when. For all I knew, this was playing into Quenylda’s hands. Using the amulet would enable her court to own me.

  Her banishment might have been a sham. If this hadn’t been her plan all along, she was simply opportunistic.

  My nerves suddenly blazed with sensation. Neurons fired in my brain. The world moved in slow motion as my mind sped up. Magic was at work. The competency lozenge? Electricity raced under my skin, the energy already there from earlier when Felix Thatch and I had made love in the subterranean depths of the castle. I spun the energy inside me in a dance, building up power while trying to shield what I was doing.

  My mind sharpened as the competency took effect. I could see the next three moves my opponent made before she declared checkmate. I needed to change the rules of this game.

  Quenylda stood. “I am not of this court. I can torment a Witchkin. Let’s see what kind of artistic madness I can inspire.” Her gaze flickered to my fingers on the amulet. She sneered at me. She expected me to use it.

  Thatch’s eyes met mine. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. My hand dropped from the amulet.

  “Oui. I believe you are correct. You are the only Fae here who doesn’t serve me.” The queen’s eyes narrowed. There was something in the way she said that, distrust living under the surface of her skin as she looked to Quenylda. “Shall we see a demonstration? I would love to witness my loyal ally kill someone inferior and insignificant.” Her smile was sly.

  She was saying one thing and meaning another, but I couldn’t yet fathom her meaning. Why hadn’t I remained silent and allowed Thatch to carry out his plan?

  Quenylda raised her hands. Her gaze flickered from Abigail Lawrence held in Thatch’s arms to the queen. I saw the cunning there. Malice flared inside her. It wasn’t directed at my fairy godmother. She was simply a means to hurt someone else.

  I remembered Baba Nata’s prophecy and prayed this wasn’t about to be Thatch’s death.

  I reached inside myself toward my magic, hoping I would have enough to stop Quenylda. But even now with competency and energy from earlier, I felt like an insignificant speck compared to all the Fae magic building in the great hall.

  The queen waved a hand nonchalantly at Thatch. “Have a care not to get any blood on Felix’s cape. I just had the servants fashion that for him tonight.”

  Time stretched like taffy, the outside world slowing while my own senses sped up. A vortex opened up inside Quenylda, but it was unlike the muse magic I’d seen before. The force was as strong as a black hole. She was hungry, grasping for ene
rgy, for power, for life. Matter and energy condensed inside her. Her rage and wrath were about to explode.

  I drew power from the well inside me. Electricity danced in my core. I spun it faster, electrons smashing and colliding. I had never charged myself this way. Always before I had used external movement, pleasure, to build the magic internally. Creating movement within myself intensified everything a hundredfold. I was my own generator. This was more like the pure electricity Thatch and I had drunk in during one of our outings. I didn’t know why I had never thought of this before.

  I contained the electricity under my skin, drawing it into my palms.

  The threads of Quenylda’s magic wove together in the air before her. It was as intricate as Celtic knotwork. It wasn’t muse magic. The lines of light didn’t flicker like her eyes usually did. They were a solid black, a shadow sucking away light. Her eyes didn’t shift in color now either. They remained solid black like the Raven Queen’s. This wasn’t some fairy-tale curse to amuse her. This magic was filled with death.

  I unleashed my own magic, breaking Thatch’s spell on my feet so that I could dive forward. I placed myself between my loved ones and the Fae threat.

  I would never have been able to see it before, but my senses were supercharged. Subtly, Quenylda shifted the magic she directed toward my mom and husband. For a moment, I thought she’d changed her focus to me. But her eyes weren’t on me. They were on the Raven Queen.

  I understood that malice in Quenylda’s eyes. It hadn’t been meant for Abigail Lawrence or Felix Thatch. It had been meant for the Raven Queen, the woman she had allied with twice.

  And deceived twice.

  In that fraction of a second as her eyes locked on the Raven Queen, Morgaine’s eyes widened. She too recognized the threat. She didn’t have time to gather up magic.

  Lightning poured out of me, too late to stop it. I had already aimed it at Quenylda. I would have preferred her to kill the Raven Queen, but as I projected a deadly dose of electrical magic out of myself, I could see this for the opportunity it was.